


Alcohol You Later

by Ambra_Sue



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Based on a song, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Don't drink and phone, Happy Ending, Human AU, M/M, Okay maybe drink and phone, Pining, They are both bad at talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambra_Sue/pseuds/Ambra_Sue
Summary: Crowley pulled up his phone and stared a hole in the number at the top of his contact list.Downing the shot, he punched the number before he could change his mind.~~~~~~He rolled over with a groan, squinting his eyes against the too bright sunlight coming in through the curtains.The next moment he felt more than saw Aziraphale's shape next to him on the bed, and the memories came flooding back.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	Alcohol You Later

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is based on the song [Alcohol You Later](https://youtu.be/JeC51d4pS4A) by Mitchell Tenpenny  
> I highly recommend listening to it beforehand, otherwise the fic won't make as much sense.
> 
> This is the first fic I've published, and I'm ridiculously nervous. I hope you'll like it as much as I liked writing it.
> 
> And a HUGE shout-out to my amazing and wonderful beta, [Aunt_Aziraphale](/users/Aunt_Aziraphale/)

Crowley waved his hand at Bee and the rest of the gang leaving the bar, shaking his head, and laughing at them trying to sort their coats out with Hastur and Ligur draping drunkenly off each other. He knew he should be heading home too, but his empty apartment and cold bed held no real appeal. Also, Newt was pouring him another shot and sliding it across the bar. He pulled up his phone and stared a hole in the number at the top of his contact list. He’d changed the name to avoid his friends either ragging him about it (Bee and the gang) or rolling their eyes at him (Anathema). Dagon had told Bee that Michael was hanging out with her friends downtown, which also explained Dagon's presence at the bar since she and Michael were practically joined at the hip otherwise, and Crowley knew that meant Aziraphale was there too. Downing the shot, he punched the number before he could change his mind.

~~~~~~  
  


He rolled over with a groan, squinting his eyes against the too bright sunlight coming in through the curtains. The next moment he felt more than saw Aziraphale's shape next to him on the bed, and the memories came flooding back. His heart ached to lay down next to his angel and cuddle up with him, forgetting all about the fact that they’d broken up and that each time this happened they swore there wouldn’t be a next time. The words “It’s over” echo in his head over and over.

~~~~~~  
  


The next Tuesday he’s sitting on the same damn bar stool, looking at Anathema mixing two-for-one drinks and knowing she made his just a bit stronger than she was supposed to, mostly to mess with her boss Gabriel, who admittedly was a bit of a prick. Not the worst of bosses though, she grudgingly admitted one of the times they found themselves at her place mixing the weirdest drinks they could think of and watching Golden Girls re-runs, but still a prick. His hand pulled up his phone almost of his own volition and hovered over the text message app. It would only be to be nice, wouldn’t it, to check if Aziraphale wanted free drinks? He was probably busy anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to check. Drinking alone was, not to put too fine a point on it, lonely. He pointedly ignored the fact that he technically had Anathema there, but she wasn’t drinking, was she?

~~~~~~  
  


This time the sun shining into the window came from the other side of the bed, but Crowley's headache and heartache was the same. Aziraphale was still sleeping when he got dressed, internally using the excuse that he really had to get to work. Before leaving, his hand hesitated over the white-blond curls, aching to touch, but he pulled his hand back. He tried to push reality to the front of his mind, repeating “It’s over, it’s over, it’s over” until his stupid, weak heart would get the message.

~~~~~~  
  


Next time, they happened to be in the same club, Crowley doing shots with Anathema (who had the night off) and Bee. Aziraphale was standing at the bar ordering drinks with Michael and Uriel, laughing, and moving to the music. Crowley knew he shouldn’t be staring, but he couldn’t help himself. Then Aziraphale's eyes met his over the crowd, and Crowley felt all the air rush out of his body.

~~~~~~  
  


Aziraphale sat up in the bed, gloriously tousled, with a sleepy and satisfied smile on his face. He looked at Crowley standing at the window looking out, with his back turned, wearing only his pants and tight jeans slung low on his hips. Crowley felt the other man’s gaze on him and wondered if he wanted him to leave. They hadn’t really talked after, well, after the other times, but he wasn’t sure his heart could take much more of this. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t this, or at least not only this.

“Want to talk about it this time, darling?” Crowley jerked at the sound of Aziraphale's voice and felt hot and cold all over at the use of the endearment.

“Maybe, maybe we should.” He scrubbed one hand over his face and turned around, feeling like someone punched him in the heart at the sight of the blond man and the words slipped out before he could stop himself. “God, how can you be so beautiful?” He immediately felt himself blush hotly, but Aziraphale only smiled that smile that made him feel like the whole world lit up. He patted a hand on the bed next to him, and Crowley gingerly went over and sat down.

Aziraphale cocked his head to the side, taking in the familiar face beside him. “You know, we say it’s over, but it isn’t really over, is it?”

Crowley hesitates, but realises he doesn’t really have anything to lose by being honest at this point. “Honestly, angel, I don’t know.” He swallows and looks away. “Do you, that is, do you want us to be over, really over?”

Aziraphale reaches out and takes his hand. “Since we seem to be very bad at us being over, how would you feel about trying to be better at being together? Maybe actually work on it this time, talking about our problems?”

Crowley looks down on the hand resting over his, slowly turns his hand over to end up palm to palm, intertwining their fingers. He smiles at his angel. “I’d like that very much.”


End file.
